#I forgot I did it like 4 months ago!!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
astranauticus · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Director of the False Last Act
355 notes · View notes
swirlthelad · 2 years ago
Text
Meet my sploon agent OCs!! Wowzers! Look at them!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
They are cool I think
31 notes · View notes
disastercit · 7 months ago
Text
could not stop thinking about camp camp characters in miitopia but I don't have access to miitopia rn so I could not make it a reality. hasty drawing is gonna have to be the next best thing
Tumblr media
thief max (almost made him an imp but i just didn't really like the imp outfits tbh)
6 notes · View notes
playbarbies · 2 months ago
Text
0 notes
keeps-ache · 3 months ago
Text
okay you know what actually. time is an opinion
#just me hi#hiyo :3#not doing anything rn bc i have a block in my dam and Honestly#i'm bad at keeping track of time longterm. like there are people i know that i'm like 'i've known them for 2+ months :)' and it's been year#ljfvsh#and that's with everyone but with my family. who has been here since the beginning of time of course#like my brother leo n i were talking abt our parents n how the childrearing strategy changed over time and for some reason i. forgot#he wasn't just like. spectating before he was born lmaooo#like yea there was a time you weren't here but you've always been here! and what do you mean you don't know about xyz we grew up with that#(he did not of course lolll)#and then the Spookiness doesn't help much of course. yea i've known this person for 3 weeks (3 years) and i have initiated Stranger Status#to myself kfshg#//anyway i'm typing rn and for some reason i keep trying to replace Gs with Ds and vice versa#new weirg typind issue!! i det a new one every so many weeks lol :3#i shoulg start cataloduind them.. that'g be fun :33#//wanna draw rn too.. or write...#you know what's really stupid is feeling guilty cuz you just wanna do the same 2 things over and over and over and over again#it's just that good dude !!! i'm gonna do it anyway cuz nothing's really ever stopped me so hfsbvs#i wanna do a little picrew game thing i had an idea for the other day and i've been putting it off since like. i think july hgbfshv#'the other day (a whole month ago)' yea i can see why my siblings are at their wits' ends hfhgbshv#that was like a week ago dude.. it has Not been 4 groups of 7 c'mon!#//anyway i'm gonna try to get to doin that#that or explode. one of those#both are pretty good.. who knows!!#feelin like i'm swimming in warm water so hfsvh#/toodles toodles :3
1 note · View note
playingonedchess · 4 months ago
Text
characters: lets live together
people on tumblr: this of course means theyre canonically having sex, no what are you talking about i dont do headcanons my blog is all stuff based on canon
#yes i could very well just bloody forget about it and move on but i dont feel like it#it was a post i saw ages ago one of those random things that comes back to irritate you#oh look 3:36 and i still havent started that bloody essay#i mean all im doing is vauging which is perfectly find im not bothering the person who posted it or anything#like i was but im not now cause i made a fake apology then felt bad about nit sticking with it when i got a reply#wtf#i mean i do think im better off not doing that now cause it was sort of rubbish#now if i just completely forgot about all of this and went and got an actual life how much better#it wasnt about this specific thing btw just like general boredom and stuff obviously im not sending hate over something this petty#i mean it actually started with a reply to an anon ask i sent where i made an effort to be polite even though i already found those opinion#really annoying and thr reply was slightly rude so i was ruder back and then sent an even ruder one#then a couple of months later i was bored and for some reason i really dont know decided the best entertainment was sending random asks the#anyway another update its 3:43 and i still havent started that essay#not doing it the first time is why ive got to redo it#i applied for am extension cause i had 2 same day and i couldnt make myselflike i lyed and said mental health issues only dont actually kno#if i really was lying and just lazy or if i actually had mental health issues then during thd extension i got really bad toothache and coul#nt do anything not even sleep and it lasted for almost two days and i did one but i was too lazy and tired i couldnt eveb be bothered to#apply for special consideration even though i wouldve got it cause it meant getting a doctors note and its so much effort abd the waiting#lists are fucking ridiculous and i might not have got it and when i called about the toothache they said fuck off and see a dentist which#you have to pay for and also probably has a waiting list so i was just like fuck off ill just redo it even though it fucks some score or#other up i dont remember what it all means i better not bloody lose any money over this fucking hell#and my batterys only 4% now#i should get an award for how off topic can you get on a tumblr post#also how boring#and how much i repreat stuff
1 note · View note
scorpiosbite · 7 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the time actress!reader mentioned obx in her interview
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── while the obx cast were together in drew’s hotel room madelyn in her ever obsession of game of thrones brought up that you had mentioned how much you love obx in an interview. causing them to watch the interview together.
𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey
author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 and 3 weeks after the first time they watched the show together. at this point of my timeline the cast have watched the entire first season of game of thrones.
Tumblr media
drew was scrolling through his phone, you had followed him back on instagram a week ago and he was on the moon. though he hadn’t messaged you yet. unsure on what to say to you. drew prided himself on being a confident man yet, your ability to make him nervous through a screen was unprecedented.
while stalking your profile for the umpteenth time he found himself wondering about you yet again. your limited amount of posts made you even more intriguing to him. he wondered what kind of person you are. what things made you tick, whether you would stare up at him with those siren eyes, whether you moaned or whimpered during sex, whether your face scrunched up and your mouth hung open as your chest heaved like it did in your sex scene that hasn’t left his brain since the moment he watched it.
just as he fell into a spiral of thoughts about you madelyn spoke up from her seat across the room, drawing the attention of everyone else, and drew was suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone in his room. “oh my fucking god! i forgot to tell you guys!” she was staring down at her phone. but drew was having trouble focusing on her, still consumed in his thoughts of you.
the others, however, had no problem driving their attention to her, so drew remained in his bubble staring at the most recent post on your profile, a vogue magazine cover from three months ago, of you, seated, legs spread on the iron throne with the sword dark sister held in your hands standing between your legs, the crown of aegon the conquerer tilted on your head, the lace thigh high socks with garters disappearing under the skirt of your tight mini dress and the bold red coating your lips enticing him further.
it wasn’t till he heard your name slip from madelyn’s lips, was his attention torn from the captivating sight on his screen. “wait, what you just say?” madelyn smirked “of course, only when i say y/n’s name, do you listen.” drew blushed lightly. but didn’t make the move to defend himself, after all they would be right, he had been distracted from the moment he saw you in all your glory stealing the screen.
“what i was saying that y/n mentioned obx in an interview, just pass me the remote, i’ll show you.” drew’s heart rate spiked, the thought of you having seen him in his element, doing his job, made him self conscious in a way that he wasn’t ready to admit. once madelyn had the video loaded on the screen, drew was once again struck by how effortlessly beautiful you are. dressed in simple black pants and an off-shoulder cream long sleeve top, brown boots disappearing under your pants and simple gold hoop earrings, your brunette hair loose and following in natural waves. drew looked at your empty neck and thought how good you would look if there was a necklace with his initial hanging there, branding you as his.
madelyn skipped through the video until the moment you were talking. the interviewer asked you and your cast-mate what shows you watch during your down time when filming, your voice rang through the silent room and drew was struck once again by how attractive your accent sounded, your british accent deep and sultry but more casual than the tone you use when playing visenya. “oh, well mimi and i love outer banks a lot, to the point where we quote it on set quite often. i think we’ve annoyed everyone.” you laughed and drew thought about how he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.
your cast mate and best friend, mimi who plays arianne martell laughed and agreed and the interviewer who was surprised by your answer said that obx was one of her favourite shows too. your face immediately brightened as you watched her intently as she spoke about the show. what drew would give to have you look at him like that.
madelyn paused the video and drew knew that once everyone had left his room he was going to watch the entire video. “that’s so cool!” jd gasped. “i know right? that’s so crazy that she’s seen our show.” madison replied. but drew couldn’t bring himself to speak, he wondered what you thought of him after watching his performance. he wondered if you had the same all consuming thoughts he had about you, about him.
“i followed her when i first watched the show and she followed me back, but after seeing that clip a week ago i messaged her and we’ve been talking back and forth ever since, she’s so fucking cool, it’s insane. i think we’re friends now!” madelyn raved. “you’re friends with her?!.” drew was baffled, how was madelyn just bringing this up, she has known about his developing crush for weeks. “ah, now you want to chime in drew?” “yes, we’re friends and she’s gonna be in la when we get back so i told her she should come hang out with us, what you guys think?”
drew’s heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, he was gonna meet you. what the fuck.
Tumblr media
thank you for all the love on the first part i’m so grateful. and for everyone who wants to be added to the tag list i’m figuring out how to do that so please be patient with me. also please send me asks about this au i would love to do like a drew starkey x actress!reader thoughts thing, but let me know what you thought of this part!
2K notes · View notes
yunniestars · 2 months ago
Text
peach mango pie 🥧
Tumblr media
pairing: kinich x chef!reader tags: fluff, kinich is a bit grumpy here but we cool, based off that one tiktok i saw around 4 months ago but i forgot where it is now, implied insomnia, not proofread (i think i've never proofread my works help), the title is based on what i wanted to cook for a while already and i did (i'm actually eating it right now)
Tumblr media
as a hunter, kinich usually suffices with just meat and berries he caught in the wild. he doesn't care about the quality as long as it is edible and it fills up his stomach (not too much though to avoid feeling too full). ajaw has complained multiple times about this but kinich reprimands him that they can't just slack off during a commission to cook a 5-course meal, much to the dragonlord's rage.
which is why when he met you, ajaw was ecstatic. you would always give so much treats to the point kinich reprimands you to not spoil ajaw too much.
jokes on him, though, kinich is guilty of being spoiled too. you always make sure he eats 3 meals a day while also checking if the food won't be a hindrance to him when he goes out for commissions. nevertheless, though, kinich is super grateful for your kindness.
so whenever kinich comes home after a long day, he would always await for whatever meal you had prepped up for dinner and hug you tiredly. in exchange, he does the dishes so you won't have to carry the burden of cooking the meals and doing the dishes.
kinich is thankful, he really is, but there's just one thing that concerns him.
୨୧
it's 3 am and kinich woke up from a bad dream. it was you leaving him for some fontaine boy, without even telling him the reason of why you broke up with him.
he was looking for your presence, about to panic because you weren't there, but then he started to smell something from the kitchen.
"oh god not again."
he immediately gets up and the moment he steps out the door, he sees you holding a tray of red velvet cookies. not only that, but he spots another tray which seems to be bagels stuffed with hotdogs.
you turn to see him looking at you with an expression that only you know that means "disbelief". he looks nonchalant, but really he's just ??? about why you're baking at 3 am AGAIN.
"good morning," you smile and take a bite off a cookie.
"why are you cooking at 3 am again? can't sleep?" he approaches you with slight worry. he's concerned about how you'd suddenly wake up at ungodly hours in the evening just to bake.
"mhm," you nod and let him embrace you. "and i was craving for the bagels we ate last week."
kinich sighs while ruffling your hair. "you couldn't wait till morning?"
"i felt the wayob telling me to do it now."
he chuckles and caresses your face, wiping the velvet crumbs off your face. "you probably misheard the wayob. you need to sleep, love."
you sigh and rest your head on his neck. "not tired..."
as you say that, kinich rolls his eyes because every time you say that, he ends up carrying you back to the bedroom while you sleep. which was what was happening right now, before he could even get the chance to tell you about it.
he sets your body gently on the bed, caressing your sleepy face and admiring how peaceful you look despite of the amount of desserts you baked just now.
kinich then sighs. that's another thing he has to worry about. where is he supposed to store the newly baked desserts when there's still 5 boxes from last time?
well, he'll just clean up for now and struggle it alone. what matters is that you're getting the amount of sleep you deserve right now.
"sleep well, my dearest."
Tumblr media
[ written with love, yunniestars. ෆ ]
Tumblr media
a/n: rahhh thanks for reading!! im really thankful for each time u guys read my work, it gives me lot of motiv hehe. one question though, how do u guys think kinich will say "love"? like the equivalent of "mon coeur?
Tumblr media
496 notes · View notes
going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago
Text
It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[ Chapter 10 ] || [ Chapter 12 ]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i'm in love with gaz
Tumblr media
Chapter 11: Excuse me?
A DM suddenly shoots up to the top of the pile in Kyle’s Tinder DM list and his eyebrows raise when he sees your name.
It’s been a month and a half, maybe longer, since you two last matched and after the brief rejection and you having gotten with Price, his life moved on and he kind of forgot you existed.
But your sudden message whose preview starts with “hey sorry to be botheri-” intrigues him so he presses it.
you: hey sorry to be bothering u but i figured it was safe to dm u about this because between u and johnny u seemed to be the most mature one! is simon okay? he stopped replying to me like a week ago and im concerned
Kyle’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead upon reading the question.
Kyle: he’s been texting u? 🤨 you: HI! yeah he has Kyle: excuse me? 🤨🤨 Kyle: like texting texting u.  Kyle: as in you text him and he answers and u 2 chat? 😐 you: yes? 🙃 Kyle: tf kind of witchcraft did u pull on him? 🤨 Kyle: he doesnt text.  Kyle: not one of us can get more than a thumbs up reaction to our texts in the groupchat. 😑 you: he texts me! Kyle: 😫?? Kyle: jesus christ.  you: you didnt answer is he okay?? 😭😭
Kyle thought back on a reason why Ghost would suddenly, well, ghost you. But he can’t think of any… Ghost is a notoriously bad texter, it doesn’t surprise him that he went MIA…
And then it hits him.
It’s 8 A.M. in the rec room of their floor and Ghost was making tea just as Johnny was taking a seat in the couch.
Kyle oofed as Johnny hit him, throwing his legs over Kyle’s lap. “Watch it mate, fuck you’re bloody heavy!” He complained.
“AH, FUCKIN’ HELL!” Ghost cursed as he threw his hands up in the air the sound of water dripping on the floor catching his attention.
Kyle looked over to see Ghost had spilled his boiling hot water everywhere on the counter.
“You alright L.T.?” Soap asked a she lifted his head over the back of the couch to peer at Simon just like Gaz was.
“Great.” Ghost grunted as he picked up his phone from the counter, which was also dripping in water, while his other hand threw a rag onto the mess of water dripping down from the counter.
“Oh fuck… ‘s your phone dead?” Soap asked and Ghost grumbled under his breath, not quite answering the question, as he busied himself soaking up the spilled water.
Just then, Price showed up at the rec room door. “Simon, gear up. Got a briefing for a solo mission in 10.”
“Fuckin’ hell, yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ghost grunted as he cleaned the mess and then rushed out the door, leaving his mug of tea in the counter and clutching his now broken phone in his hands.
Kyle: hes fine. Kyle: he spilled water on his phone and killed it I think.  Kyle: and he got sent out before he could get it fixed. 🙃 you: oh okay good! you: thanks! you: sorry to have bothered you! 🙏 Kyle: now wait just a minute. 😤 Kyle: u need to explain how in the hell u and ghost talk.👀 you: ghost? Kyle: that’s his work name. 🤷‍♂️ you: fitting seeing as i thought he ghosted me Kyle: THAT’S THE JOKE I MADE JUST NOW TO MYSELF! 😭 you: were in sync it seems 😭 Kyle: answer the question tho. you: idk what u want me to answer with Kyle: wdym u dont know??? explain yourself. Kyle: how do you get ghost to text u???? you: idk? im funny ig Kyle: 😑 you: im sorry if thats not what u want to hear Kyle: wait Kyle: a couple weeks ago he was out all night Kyle: during morning training soap was talking about how he had a date Kyle: was he with u? 👀👀 you: soap? Kyle: johnny. Kyle: keep up cmon now. you: jeez don’t patronize me you: yes simon was with me Kyle: 👀👀👀 Kyle: i see. Kyle: tell me more. you: theres nothing to tell Kyle: thats a lie and u know it.  you: its not!!! Kyle: cmon. Kyle: u cant just meet with a bloke with a skull mask on and then say u dont have anything to tell. 😑😑 you: a skull mask?? Kyle: did he not wear a mask when he was with u? 🤨🤨 you: yes? you: a black one Kyle: with a skull print on it yeah? you: no??? 🙃 you: just black! Kyle: jesus christ. Kyle: and what? what happened? you: nothing?! Kyle: walk me thru it. you: we went out for a drink then came back to mine and watched a movie! Kyle: 🤨🤨 Kyle: and had a shag? you: NO???? Kyle: wdym no? thats what would normally happen with a bloke. you: and???? you: this is simon were talking about kyle you: nothing about him screams normal exactly 🙃 you: hes joked about being able to kill me with his bar ehands you: bare hands* Kyle: fair. Kyle: this raises more questions for me. you: what Kyle: like u would meet with a masked bloke that can kill u with his bare hands alone without protection? 🤨 you: i had protection Kyle: not a condom. you: oh 😅 you: well we met at a pub soooo  Kyle: what did u 2 do then Kyle: other than watch a ‘movie’ 🙄 you: played mario kart you: slept Kyle: as in Kyle: you SLEPT? like honk shoo honk mimimimi? you: yes🙄🙄 Kyle: im confused. you: ur confused? im fucking confused bro Kyle: wdym u SLEPT TOGETHER? 🙃 Kyle: WHAT KIND OF WITCHCRAFT IS THIS?  Kyle: wtf have u done to him Kyle: like ghost doesnt text, he sure as shit doesnt visit people, and he doesnt go on dates, he doesnt sleep next to people, im almost sure the man doesnt have feelings or emotions and only speaks in sarcasm  Kyle: how can u get that out of him?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: no one else can! you: well with that mentality you cant you: idk what to tell u you: we hit it off 🙄 Kyle: explain yourself. you: ive been explaining it!!!!! Kyle: no explain it better. Kyle: I think Im having a stroke.  you: idk how to make it clearer??? Kyle: thats it. Kyle: are you free rn?? Kyle: I need u to explain urself. 😑 you: Im at work? Kyle: whens ur lunch break? 👀 you: in 35 minutes. Kyle: do u like ramen? you: yes? Kyle: whats the closest japanese to ur job? you: Akira Kyle: meet me at Akira for lunch. Kyle: I’m buying. you: who said i want to meet up with u?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: man just get down there. Kyle: im offering to pay. you: fineeeee 🙄
Kyle quickly hopped up from his seat at his desk with a start and rushed back to his room to change out of his fatigues.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur
@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket
1K notes · View notes
babyleostuff · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
౨ৎ voicemails yoon jeonghan leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: honey, babe)
Tumblr media
...one: i think i left my toothbrush at your place. (pause) and my charger. (pause) and the headphones i bought specifically for this trip
...two: don’t kill me honey, but they had to cut my hair. not much but still. (mumbling) don’t listen to shua i’m not bald i swear. anyway, call me when you wake up! and remember i love you no matter your hairstyle!
...three: i have so much trouble sleeping here, i don’t know why 
...four: did you eat breakfast today? you always forget about eating in the morning. oh, and i left some of those cookies you like in the cabinet next to the fridge. shit i forgot to tell you about them and i bought them like (pause) a month ago, i hope they aren't expired
...five: i called you like six times before i remembered it’s like 4 am back home (laughs) i guess i’m starting to miss you
...six: if coups did send you those messages, please ignore them. i did not push him off the stage
...seven: how was your day? did you do anything exciting? i miss your voice
...eight: it’s already saturday for you so make sure to get a lot of rest. i'll call you after the concert today if i don't end up falling asleep after. and if the kids don't take me out drinking again. i'll just trick joshua to go
...nine: it sucks sleeping alone 
...ten: i think i’m getting old babe, my knees were cracking like crazy today
Tumblr media
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys
1K notes · View notes
felkithecreator · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
(Full-Color Version under the cut!!)
I was inspired by @breannasfluff 's pride DTIYS!! But, well, why draw just Triple Threat when I could draw the entire Chain instead???
Is what I thought, when I started this over a month ago.
Reasons why I should've drawn only Triple Threat, rather than the entire Chain, is that this probably would've taken like, 3 or 4 weeks less than it actually did :D. (..that's not true, more like 2 weeks probably.) Ahaha
Still, I'm very happy with how this turned out!! :D
I'm still so so late though it's not even Pride Month anymore whoops.
The flags that I chose are my own personal head-canons for the Chain. But also I'll list some of my relationship headcanons too for fun.
Warriors: Gay, painfully single. 
Time: Ambiguously queer, for the purposes of this art I thought genderqueer fit well. Ofc he's married to Malon.
Wind: Queer/Gay (He and Tetra are queer platonic besties to me) I didn't really wanna assign too much to him though since he's like, 14, so he just got a rainbow.
Twilight: Pansexual. Used to have a crush on Midna, later develops a relationship with Shad?? Idk, he can do whatever he wants.
Sky: Bisexual, Polyamorous. Man is totally dating both Sun and Groose.
Four: I have no idea what Four is. Vio is gay, Shadow is gay, Blue and Green are not into romance, and Red is pan. Demiromantic I guess, for all of Four? But like Four would never date anyone cuz the colors. So I just went with a rainbow.
Legend: Transgender, gay, asexual. My headcanon says he's married to Ravio. (For tax reasons, ofc.)
Hyrule: Aroace!! (Aromantic asexual). I'm sorry but I cannot imagine this little fae dating anyone. Queer platonic relationships with the Zeldas though? I can see that.
Wild: Bigender. I also headcanon him as polysexual but I forgot that I headcanoned him as that until literally writing this bit so uh... I forgot to add it to the image. Oh well.
This took forever, literally I am dying, and now I can finally move onto drawing a different piece!! ...I still need to finish my Chain as mythical creatures series so maybe I'll get on that
Here's the full-color version:
Tumblr media
573 notes · View notes
kroosluvr · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
present day
if every day will be like this from now on, i'll look forward to every single one.
ok. Sits down. help meeee i tried using csp's comic tools for once (and also gradient maps + coloring w monochrome) to save time bUT I ENDED UP SPENDING THE USUAL AMT ANYWAY SO. . erm. WELL IT WAS FUN ANYWAYS
hiiiiiiiii i wrote this script 4 months ago nd finally did it (had this on the backburner for 20 million yrs bc i wanted to get out other angst bullshit first)
the parallels of goro's back (x3) on the first 2 pgs are kinda not 1:1 as i'd like but REGARDLESS i still like them. goro, who had utmost control over his life, running it like a machine, regardless of how he feels or if he's tired or if he wants to give up.......he was in control. knowing, of course, that his life is on the line at every waking moment, but since he was always on edge, always alert, he was still in control.
but now, surviving the long winter and coming out to the other side, he's lost that control AND that edge. now what is he left with? what is there left?
very speficially in the 2nd page.... i think its so <3 YAY <3 that goro, now, doesn't feel the need to take such spic-and-span clean-cut care of his appearance.., guy who rolls out of bed and throws on a shirt to go hangout w akira and sumire. he decides to tie up his hair and forgoes his gloves... feels more "comfortable" to change his apperance, to let down his guard a little. <- was the rough symbolism JKDSHKFS
sumire getting the choco croissant but letting goro have the first bite YEAHHHH WHATEVER
4th page symbolism is also rough i didnt think abt it too hard LMAO. 3rdsem goro watching his detective prince self leave. he knows acutely well that chapter of his life is over - whether he survives the long winter or dies in it. all that he knew - even though it was miserable and awful and frustrating and dangerous - is gone.
and now there's just this: the present day. whatever that means.
i think something important to me abt royal trio is just the idea of Learning To Just Exist: no need for a "purpose" or a "calling" or some overarching "goal". they just learn to exist.
and of course none of them really have a benchmark for "wow i like this i want to live like this" so they just roll with the punches, as they always have, but yknow. finally getting to live their honest student life as they always deserved
edit: and most importantly for goro, i think, is learning to cut himself some slack. "despite everything" he says, despite all the shit he's endured AND all the shit he's done, he feels like this is "right." whatever that means, he's ready to take it day by day to figure it out. AND THATS THE WHOLE THING Punches wall really hard
edit: I ALSO FORGOT. i think the sentiment of "being waited for" for goro means a lot. since he had to do everything by himself, fight for himself, decide everything for himself frm such a young age, the idea of akira and sumire waiting for him, inviting him out simply for him to be there -> is really meaningful to him, more than they could know.
edit AGAIN: also goro sleeping in means a lot to me. i imagine that guy has pretty terrible insomnia. ALSO HE HAS A BEDFRAME! i like the thought of his apartment being so /r/malelivingspaces throughout the game. he doesn’t deserve a bedframe. BUT HE HAS ONE NOW!
goros expressions in the last page gve me a hard time. sparkly....
also im SO freaking sorry if his voice isnt too well-written... i had a crisis over the wording while draiwng htis so much DSKHASKDASJK AND THE PANELING AND WHATEVERRR IDEK WHAT IM DOINGGG but it was fun!!!! exploratory..... regardless i will keep workign to do him and royaltrio justice. THUMBSUP EMOJI.
503 notes · View notes
solxamber · 1 month ago
Text
Rest Assured - Jamil Viper x reader
4 times you see Jamil nearing his breaking point and the 1 time you intervene
Tumblr media
You’ve always prided yourself on being observant. Some might call it nosy, but you prefer thoughtful. After all, if you didn’t keep an eye on things, who would? Especially when it came to someone like Jamil Viper, who, despite his best efforts to appear unfazed, was absolutely not fine.
And lately, it’s been like watching a train wreck in slow motion.
The guy was practically doing everything—cooking, cleaning, managing Kalim, studying, practicing, and dealing with an endless amount of Scarabia chaos. But today? Today felt like the universe decided to crank up the difficulty setting on his life, and you were determined to intervene. But first, you needed to observe.
Tumblr media
Instance 1: Spaghetti Saga
It began in the kitchen, where Jamil was, unsurprisingly, cooking for the entire dorm. Kalim, bless his overly-enthusiastic heart, had announced a Scarabia Spaghetti Spectacular—an idea that seemed innocent enough on the surface. Until you realized that Kalim had no intention of helping. Well, he tried. Keyword: tried.
“Jamil! Jamil!” Kalim ran into the kitchen, arms full of ingredients that had no business being in spaghetti. “Look! I found some strawberries! And these marshmallows! They’d go perfectly in the sauce, right?”
Jamil froze mid-stir, his hand gripping the spoon so tightly you were concerned it might snap in two. Slowly, he turned to face Kalim, a polite but strained smile plastered across his face. “Strawberries? In spaghetti sauce?”
Kalim nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! It’s sweet, right? Sweet is good!”
Jamil’s eye twitched, just a little. “Kalim… no.”
“But—”
“No strawberries. No marshmallows. Please.”
Kalim deflated slightly but wasn’t deterred. “Okay! No problem! I’ll just add them to the salad instead.”
Before Jamil could react, Kalim darted off, presumably to wreak havoc on the next innocent dish. You caught the moment Jamil whispered to himself, “I’m in hell.”
And that was only the beginning.
Tumblr media
Instance 2: Basketball Breakdown
The next incident occurred during basketball practice. Now, Jamil was usually the best player on the court, no question. Quick reflexes, sharp strategy—he could wipe the floor with the other teams without even breaking a sweat. But today?
Today, it was like he forgot what a basketball was.
It started innocently enough. A pass here, a dribble there, nothing out of the ordinary. But then one of the players tossed him the ball, and Jamil, in a moment that defied all logic and reason, missed it entirely. The ball smacked him square in the face with an audible thud.
The gym went silent. You could hear the collective gasp from the team, all eyes on Jamil, who stood there frozen, gripping his nose.
“Jamil!” Kalim shouted from across the court, jogging over. “Are you okay? Here, I brought some ice just in case!” He whipped out a handful of ice cubes from his pocket, offering them as if this was a totally normal thing to do.
Jamil stared at him, then at the ice cubes, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw his soul leave his body. But instead of snapping, he simply nodded, took the ice cubes, and walked off the court in silence, leaving everyone else standing there in stunned confusion.
“Did he just—?” one of the players started to ask, but you shook your head. “Don’t.”
You made another mental note. This was getting serious.
Tumblr media
Instance 3: Paperwork Pandemonium
After practice, you found Jamil in his dorm room, surrounded by a sea of paperwork. And, of course, Kalim was there too, oblivious to the storm brewing in Jamil’s head.
“Jamil, can you help me organize these?” Kalim asked, holding up a stack of papers. “I don’t really know what half of them are, but they seem important!”
Jamil glanced at the pile with a deadpan expression. “Kalim, that’s the inventory for the next three months. You were supposed to file this weeks ago.”
Kalim blinked, still smiling. “Oh… well, I knew it was important!”
Jamil’s fingers twitched as he grabbed the papers from Kalim, scanning them quickly. “These are all overdue. We’re going to get fined if we don’t submit them by tomorrow.”
Kalim’s eyes widened in horror. “Tomorrow?! Oh no! What are we gonna do?”
Jamil took a deep breath, visibly restraining himself. “We aren’t going to do anything. I am going to fix this. Again.”
Kalim, ever the optimist, beamed. “Thanks, Jamil! You’re the best!”
And with that, he was off to who knows where, leaving Jamil alone in the paperwork disaster zone. You watched as he stared at the pile in front of him, his eye twitching again. He muttered something under his breath—something you were pretty sure wasn’t very polite.
You added another mental note. He was hanging by a thread.
Tumblr media
Instance 4: The Final Straw (Almost)
The fourth instance happened later that evening, when you found Jamil in the library, supposedly studying for finals. But when you approached his table, you found him sitting there, staring blankly at a textbook. His pen was poised over a page, but he hadn’t written a single word.
“Hey,” you said softly, sitting down next to him. “How’s studying going?”
He didn’t answer at first, just continued staring at the book like it held all the answers to his existential crisis. Finally, he sighed. “I can’t do this.”
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t… I can’t handle all of this. Kalim. Finals. The dorm. Everything.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. “It’s too much.”
You stared at him for a moment, then reached over and gently placed your hand on his. “You don’t have to handle it all by yourself, you know.”
He looked up at you, exhaustion clear in his eyes. “Who else is going to do it? Kalim? The other students? No one can do it like I can.”
You could hear the defeat in his voice, the resignation. He truly believed he was stuck in this never-ending cycle of responsibilities, with no way out.
That was it. You’d seen enough.
Tumblr media
The Fifth Time’s the Charm: Break Time for Jamil
Without another word, you grabbed Jamil by the arm and pulled him out of the library. He barely had the energy to protest, following you like a zombie as you led him to a quiet, secluded spot in the courtyard. Once there, you gently pushed him down onto a bench.
“Sit,” you ordered, and to your surprise, he didn’t argue.
He sat there, looking completely drained, his usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. You sat next to him, feeling your heart twist as you saw just how close he was to breaking down. This wasn’t the Jamil you were used to—this was someone who had been running on fumes for way too long.
You didn’t even think. You just acted. Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
Jamil stiffened at first, clearly not used to such open displays of affection. But after a few seconds, he slowly relaxed, leaning into your embrace like a man who had been drowning and finally found a lifeline.
“I’m so tired,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
You hugged him tighter, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I know. You’ve been doing too much for too long. You need a break.”
“I can’t,” he muttered, shaking his head. “There’s too much to do.”
“Screw the to-do list,” you replied. “You’re not a machine, Jamil. You need to rest, or you’re going to collapse.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just leaned into you, letting himself be vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. You could feel the tension slowly draining from his body, the weight of his responsibilities finally lifting, if only for a moment.
And then, before you knew it, he was asleep.
You blinked in surprise, looking down at his head resting in your lap. His breathing had evened out, and his face, usually so guarded and composed, was now relaxed in peaceful slumber.
You couldn’t help but smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. He needed this more than he’d ever admit. And you? You were more than happy to be his pillow.
Jamil didn’t wake up for a while, and when he finally did, it was gradual, the soft sunlight filtering through the trees casting a warm glow over the courtyard. His lashes fluttered against your lap, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion as he blinked awake. The moment he realized where he was, nestled against you, his cheeks flushed and honestly, he looked adorable.
“I—” Jamil began, his voice thick with grogginess as he pushed himself up, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles. “Did I fall asleep?”
You offered a soft smile, brushing a few strands of his hair away from his face. “Yep. Right in my lap, too. You must’ve been really tired.”
His eyes widened, and the blush on his cheeks deepened. Jamil rarely let his guard down, but right now, he looked almost vulnerable, caught between embarrassment and gratitude. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Jamil,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on his arm to keep him from sitting up fully. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been running yourself ragged, and you finally let yourself rest. I’m glad you did.”
He stared at you, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. His shoulders sagged, and for once, he didn’t try to fight it. He stayed close to you, his body still angled toward yours, like he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away completely.
You could see it, the weight of the exhaustion he’d been carrying for so long. The lines of stress etched into his face, the constant need to be on alert. Jamil had always been the responsible one, the one who took on everyone else’s burdens. But now, in this moment, you wanted to be the one to take care of him.
“Hey,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair again, watching as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “How about we get out of here? Take a break. A real break.”
Jamil’s eyes opened, and he frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us. Somewhere far away from all of this. No Scarabia, no endless responsibilities. Just… us.” You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice as if you were sharing a secret. “You deserve it, Jamil. You’ve done more than enough. It’s time to take care of yourself.”
He hesitated, his frown deepening, as if the very idea of abandoning his duties was too much to comprehend. “I can’t just leave… there’s too much to do. Kalim—”
“Will be perfectly fine,” you interrupted, your tone leaving no room for argument. “And besides, I think Kalim would be all for this. In fact, I bet he’d love the idea.”
Jamil looked unconvinced, but before he could argue further, you gave him a gentle nudge. “Think about it. You could actually relax for once. No one bothering you, no one asking for a hundred different things at once. Just peace and quiet. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
He glanced down at his hands, clearly mulling over your words. You could tell he was struggling with the thought of letting go, even just for a little while. Jamil had been in control for so long, it was hard for him to imagine a world where he didn’t have to be.
But you weren’t about to let him slip back into that cycle.
Reaching out, you gently cupped his cheek, tilting his head up so he was looking at you again. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, Jamil. Let me take care of you for a change.”
His breath caught at your words, and for a long moment, he just stared at you, something soft and unspoken passing between you. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he exhaled a long, weary breath.
“I don’t know if I know how to relax,” he admitted quietly.
You chuckled softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Good thing you’ve got me then. I’ll teach you.”
There was a beat of silence, and then, with a small sigh, Jamil opened his eyes again, his gaze meeting yours. “You really think we could just… leave? Just like that?”
“Absolutely,” you said, the determination clear in your voice. “We’ll go somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet. No one to bother us. Just you, me, and a whole lot of nothing.”
Jamil let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head slightly. “And what about Kalim? He’s bound to make a mess of things if I’m gone too long.”
“Don’t worry about him,” you said with a grin. “We’ll get him on board. Heck, Kalim will probably help us pack.”
And as if summoned by your words, Kalim himself appeared around the corner, grinning ear to ear like he’d just heard the best news of his life. “Did someone say vacation? I am so in!”
Jamil stared at him, his expression caught between disbelief and mild exasperation. “Kalim—”
Kalim bounded over to you both, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, Jamil, this is perfect! You’ve been working so hard lately, you totally deserve a break! You should l go somewhere fun! Ooh, maybe a beach? Or the mountains! Or, ooh, how about a floating island? I heard there’s one with the best sunrises!”
“Kalim—” Jamil tried again, but Kalim was on a roll.
“I’ll even help you pack! I can get everything ready! Don’t worry about Scarabia, I’ve got it all covered!” Kalim’s grin widened as he clapped Jamil on the shoulder. “You just focus on relaxing!”
Jamil blinked, looking thoroughly overwhelmed by Kalim’s sudden enthusiasm. “I… don’t know what to say.”
“How about ‘yes’?” you teased, nudging him again. “Come on, Jamil. You deserve this. Let yourself have something nice for once.”
Jamil glanced between you and Kalim, clearly torn. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that still wanted to cling to his responsibilities, to keep everything in order. But then, slowly, his expression softened. He let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“…Fine,” he muttered, his lips curving into a small, tired smile. “But only if you promise we’re not going anywhere too ridiculous.”
Kalim’s eyes lit up, and he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! Don’t worry, I’ll find the perfect spot! You’ll love it!”
But before Kalim could dash off in a whirlwind of excitement, there was a sound behind you that made you groan inwardly—Crowley.
The headmaster sauntered into view, his usual over-the-top grandeur evident in every step. “Vacation, you say? Oh, I’m afraid that won’t be possible! You see, I was just about to ask you two for some assistance with a few important matters—”
Before he could finish, Jamil stood up sharply, his expression darkening. For once, it wasn’t the usual calm, collected Jamil standing in front of you. This Jamil was one step away from grabbing Crowley by the collar and shaking him like a rag doll.
“Headmaster,” Jamil began, his voice low and dangerous, “I have been running this dorm, managing everything from meals to paperwork, while studying and handling Kalim’s disasters for months. I have not had a break. I am this close to losing my mind.”
Crowley blinked, clearly taken aback by Jamil’s sudden intensity.
“If you try to take this vacation from me,” Jamil continued, his tone flat but terrifying, “I swear I will not be responsible for what happens next.”
Crowley opened his mouth to protest, but one look at Jamil’s expression—wild-eyed, teetering on the edge—was enough to make him think twice. “Ah, well, I suppose the matters can wait! Yes, yes, of course! You both deserve some time off. Enjoy your… rest.”
Jamil didn’t wait for any further confirmation. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet, and shot Crowley a glare that could have melted steel. “We’re leaving. Now.”
You tried to suppress your laughter as Jamil practically dragged you away, Kalim bouncing along happily beside you.
Once you were a safe distance from the courtyard, Jamil finally slowed down, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He glanced down at you, his hand still holding yours.
“You really think this is going to work?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
You grinned, squeezing his hand gently. “Absolutely. I’ll make sure of it.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, you saw Jamil smile—a real, genuine smile, soft and full of relief. He leaned in closer, his voice low as he whispered, “Thank you. For… everything.”
Your heart fluttered as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering just a little longer than necessary. “You deserve it,” you whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder. “And I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”
Jamil chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both walked off, Kalim already rambling about potential vacation spots. But for now, you didn’t care where you were going. All that mattered was that it would be the two of you together.
Tumblr media
Masterlist
328 notes · View notes
highvern · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Patterns II
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader
Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst
Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?
Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play
Length: ~9.9k
Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
Tumblr media
Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives. 
But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.
“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.
Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.
“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?” 
Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.
Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?
Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project
Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies
Y/N: and joy
Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.” 
“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.
Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”
“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.
“And?”
The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.
Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary. 
Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA
Y/N: Your honor free her!!!
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand 
Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :) 
Y/N: whore
But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…
Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.
Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?
Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.
The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.
As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s. 
The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.
The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.
A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.
“Okay, I need to go home.” 
Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.
“Why?” You ask skeptically. 
Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.
“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”
“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”
“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”
Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”
He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.
Tumblr media
Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.
“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.
Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?” 
“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.
You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.
When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time. 
Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.
“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.
“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.” 
Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.
Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.
“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.
“Nope.”
“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.
“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.
Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”
“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”
Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?” 
“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.
“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.” 
You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”
“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.
“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?” 
“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.
“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again. 
Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect. 
“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.
Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back
Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything
Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.
Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite
Y/N: im not spooked so easily
Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.
Tumblr media
The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company. 
Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.
A trio of voices echo down the hallway.
“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.” 
The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them. 
You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.
Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter. 
Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.
“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.
You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television. 
Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.
Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body. 
Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.
You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.
“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.
You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.
Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.
You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation. 
But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again. 
You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel. 
The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.
He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between.. 
In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.
The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.
Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.
Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.
Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.
Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.
Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.
The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.
Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.
What is he waiting for? You think.
Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.
But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm. 
Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure. 
Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in. 
Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.
He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.
Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.
But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it. 
Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge. 
When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your  underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again. 
But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.
Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.
Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.
Tumblr media
She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.
Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover. 
The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered. 
Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough. 
He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.
The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.
“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.
In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence. 
The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.
Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.
With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine. 
Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.
You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut. 
He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.
On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.
Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)
Tumblr media
The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.
Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)
Wonwoo: Next time?
Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait
The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.
On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing. 
More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?
But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.
Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight. 
Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing. 
His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.
When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day. 
Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.
When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door. 
Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live. 
Tumblr media
Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.
Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.
The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat. 
A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.
MISSED CALL: Wonwoo
A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.
“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.
He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.
“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.
“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”
“Why?”
It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.
“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”
“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.
“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.
“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”
“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.
Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.
“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”
“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.
You wince, “Sorry.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.
“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”
“Your landlord can’t let you in?”
“Not answering his phone.”
“And Mingyu?”
“Also not answering.”
After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.
Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”
Silence.
“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.” 
“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”
Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.
“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.
“Wai—”
Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior  drowsiness transforms into irritation. 
Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.
 It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”
The pause on the other end of the line is heavy. 
“I was being an ass.”
“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.
“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”
Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man. 
“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.
“…Thanks.” 
The call ends.
Tumblr media
Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.
If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.
“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.
“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”
Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.
“Wait, let me get some towels.” 
Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra. 
It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.
Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head. 
“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”
Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came. 
Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.
Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”
“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.
The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.
You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.
Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.
You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.
While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.
Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair. 
“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”
“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago. 
Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.
Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”
“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”
“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. ��You’ll cope.”
In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway. 
How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet. 
More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.
“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”
Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently. 
Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”
“You’re right.” 
“What?” You choke.
“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes. 
You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy. 
“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”
Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”
“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.
“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.
He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch. 
“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”
“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up. 
You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you. 
Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”
“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.” 
Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. 
“I’m a really, really good actress.”
A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath. 
Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones. 
A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.
Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.
Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.
He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”
Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.
Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back. 
“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.
His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt. 
A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.
Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.
Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions. 
Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.
Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.
Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want. 
“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.
You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place. 
“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”
Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action. 
Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start. 
Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.
Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.
“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.
You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.
Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit. 
“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.
Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.
You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate. 
Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls. 
Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.
“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?” 
The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples. 
“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”
The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue. 
Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.
You snap. “What the fuck?”
He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.
Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.
Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.
Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own. 
The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”
His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half. 
If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.
Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper. 
One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.
“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.
Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance. 
Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.
You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.
“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.
Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught. 
“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”
The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.
You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.
Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.
“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.
Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”
Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again. 
It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you. 
And you take it.
“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”
Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips. 
“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.
The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.
“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?” 
His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.
Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing. 
Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.” 
Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy. 
He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole. 
“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”
Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.
“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant. 
He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.
With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.
Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care. 
You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.
You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi
Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho @kyeomofhearts @beananacake
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
577 notes · View notes
cheriladycl01 · 8 months ago
Text
The Bottle - Carlos Sainz x Reader
Plot: You'd always believed in soulmates, in your culture an old tradition was that a person would send out a letter in a glass bottle for their soulmate with clue's requesting the person who found it comes to find them.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Carlos walked along the long stretch of sand with his cousin. It was summer and they were vacationing in Mallorca in the family property.
They'd gone for a morning jog keeping up with his fitness plan for over the summer break ready for the second stint of his F1 season.
"What's that?" Carlos mumbles looking down at the glass bottle buried half in and half out of the season. He reaches down to pick it up but his cousin smacks his hand away.
"It could be broken and hurt you!" he exclaims looking at Carlos in shock as to why he would be so silly.
"It's not broken look, there's a note inside I'm intrigued!" he says pulling it out the sand and popping the cork off the top that was keeping the paper dry.
He pulls the paper out looking and reading the note on it.
Dear Soulmate, If you picked this up, it's because something called you too. In my culture when we do this and someone picks it up it means their our soulmate. I now have to give you clues and if you're intrigued enough you'll come find me. My name is Y/N and I'm 21 years old. Clue 1: I'm from country known for it's monarchy! Clue 2: I have a degree in fashion design from a top university Clue 3: 2021 Clue 4. I work under Mr McQueen Clue 5. 36 Clue 6. Enbankment Yours Sincerely, Your Soulmate.
"No way!" Carlos laughs re-reading it! He stuffs it in his pocket, knowing to take it home and look more into it.
"What was it!" his cousin asks looking over.
"Nothing!" he exclaims not wanting his cousin to think he was crazy, but Carlos had a strong belief in fate. This meant that of course he would come and find you.
You had actually sent that bottle out years ago on your 21st birthday in Australia, you were now 24 and thriving in your career as a fashion designer in Alexander McQueen.
You'd forgotten about the bottle since you'd done it, for a few months after you hoped someone would have found it but it slowly become one of those things you just forgot about.
For Carlos, he returned home with the note in his jacket pocket and he set it down on his desk.
He couldn't help but giggle re-reading over the clues and note. As a famous F1 driver he found the working under McQueen funny, but that didn't lead him too much.
But his best chance would be to join Lando for the week before the British Grand Prix, as he knew that you'd be in the UK. According to clue 1.
"Lando, please take this seriously this is a real person I want to find her!" he exclaims shoving the photocopied version of the original letter as he didn't want to destroy it.
"Okay, right so you've determined she's a uni student from the UK. There's like over 150 universities here so it's going to be impossible especially if we don't know what year she graduated" Lando sighs looking down the clues.
"Well, what about Clue 3, 2021, you recon that's when she graduated?" he asks and Lando puts a finger on his chin, thinking for a moment.
"It could be, but that would mean she also would have sent it out in 2021, how did this survive for four years at sea!" Lando exclaims looking over at Carlos who has his head tilted in shock.
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"Well, the youngest you can graduate is 21 in the UK, so if she did it in 2021, at age 21 she would now be 24?" Lando admits.
"And it says top UK, university that's either Oxford or Cambridge. And only Cambridge have a specific one called Fashion Design" Lando explains after some research making some deductions.
"Take me there!" Carlos says suddenly.
"To Cambridge... no mate! Look there's other clues. She's got a fashion degree, is in the UK and works under Mr McQueen, she probably is a designer in London HQ of Alexander McQueen which would explain Embankment!" Lando deducts and Carlos just has a shocked look on his face the whole time.
"What is Enbankment?" he asks.
"It's an underground station, I bet that's the station she uses to get home, to Apartment 36 perhaps?" Lando asks.
"Fuck onlyfans, if F1 fails become a god damn detective!" Carlos says pulling him into big hug before letting go and pulling shoes and a coat.
"Where are you going?" Lando shouts after him.
"The McQueen HQ building!" Carlos shouts back.
"Do you even know where it is?" he asks making Carlos pause.
"No, but I'll find it!" he shouts back before running out the door.
He tries to find his way around the underground system of London before googling the HQ and where it was. He eventually got there into the reception checking to see it was 4pm, not the end of office work day so maybe he would catch you.
"Hi there, really sorry. Looking for a Y/N?" he asks and the older lady looks over at him with a frown.
"Business?" she says in a posh British accent.
"Erm..." he couldn't think of anything to say.
"She's a friend of mine from Uni, from Cambridge" he smiles and she looks over him.
"Well, you just missed her, she left for the day about 10 minutes ago!" she offers and he sighs.
"Enbankment!" he says before running out the building. He runs down to the underground and he starts to look around all the people on the platform.
You were stood there, leaning against the underground wall and reading your book.
Carlos eyes were darting around the platform, he could make deductive reasoning. He was looking for a 24 year old fashionista and when his eyes met yours, it was like something in him just knew that it was you.
You looked at him with your head cocked to the side in confusion as to why this man was looking like that as you. However, as the tube pulled into the station your gaze wavered as you made your way on.
Carlos was in awe that he wasn't moving until someone ran past him to try catch the door. He realized you were gone and must be on the train, so he did the same getting on as the doors were closing into separate compartment.
He waited and at every stop he'd poke his head out to see if you got off. At one particularly busy stop, some people get off and a bunch of people push on before he can poke his head out, he gravitates back towards the front and sees your hair in the little bow walk away and towards the exit.
He pushes through and jumps out the doors just as they are about to close. He runs up the only stairs that are there seeing you at the top swiping a rail card onto the scanner and being let out of the gates.
He runs foreward swiping his own card.
"Hello, sir... can we take a minute of your time to talk about Climate Change!" a protester stops him, with a smile on his face where he looks behind her to see you stepping out into the sun lit street.
"I'm really sorry! No! I'm late to meet someone!" he explains before pushing past and running through the gate swiping the Oyster Card he owned from when he worked with McLaren.
He runs out onto the street where you did letting his eyes adjust to the light as he looks around for you. His eyes catch the long dress you were wearing, it was colourful and red, a colour he considered his since working for Ferrari.
He saw you walking into a building block and started to run towards the traffic lights and presses the button straight away. He waits for the green man before running across apologising to anybody he bumped into. He finds the entrance seeing security there and panics.
God they'd think he was crazy if he asked them to let him in. But then again. He was Carlos Sainz!
"Hey, I was hoping i could look round the building. I'm thinking of letting a place!" he smiles his puppy smile at the two guards on the gate who turn to him with stoic expressions before noticing who it is.
"Yeah sure! That's fine! Can we get a picture with you? Me and my son are huge fans!" he exclaims making Carlos nod. After he walks into the building looking around for a map of where rooms were.
36 - thats what he was looking for.
17th floor, he got into the lift and pressed the number shooting up. He fixed his hair in the lift getting nervous to meet you, this complete stranger.
Why was he even doing this?
He exists the elevator and walks down the corridor to your apartment and stands outside. He waits for what feels like forever before he knocks on the door.
He waits and then there you are in front of him.
"Hi" he breathes out looking over your gorgeous features.
"Can I help you?" you ask looking over him. You could sort of remember his face, but from where you didn't know right now.
"Erm, I!" he starts.
"Wait your the guy i saw in the tube, did you ... follow me here?" you ask stepping out the apartment shutting the door behind you so he couldn't get in if he was a crazy person.
"Yes. But, your Y/N, you should be 24 right now. You went to Cambridge and studied Fashion design and live in a country with a famous monarchy. You work for a Mr McQueen which actually means Alexander McQueen where you use the tube to get to work each day and live at apartment 36" Carlos breathes out all in one breath, you cock your head to the side in curiosity wondering why they were such specific facts until he pulls out a sheet of paper that you never thought you'd see again.
"No!" you laugh putting a hand over your mouth.
"Where did you find this!" you ask looking up at the man in awe.
"A beach in Mallorca" he offers scratching the back of his neck trying to work out what you were thinking right now.
"I chucked this off a boat in Australia on my 21st birthday" you gasp in shock at how far it had come.
"My family has a holiday home in Mallorca and it was on the beach where I run everyday!" he smiles nodding.
"And you actually came to find me?" you laugh in shock thinking it was a silly thing your mum would always tell you was how your family did things. Its how she found your dad, how you nan found your grandad and how your aunt found your uncle.
"Well, I did find it. I was curious!" he grins, looking at you and you look around the corridor before you bite your lip.
"Did you maybe want to talk about all this craziness over dinner?" you ask looking up at him.
"I'd love that!" he smiles, holding a hand out for you.
"I cant believe you found me!" you smile, placing a kiss on his cheek making them turn a little pink.
"Mmmm I did find you! All from the Bottle."
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313
418 notes · View notes
cakesunflower · 1 month ago
Text
lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 9
Tumblr media
Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
A/N: Happy reading!!!!!
Isla touches up her lipstick under the bright lights of the bathroom, which smells like apples thanks to whatever air freshener is plugged in here. When she drops the lipstick in her purse, Isla sighs at her reflection, the frustration evident in her green eyes. She knows it’s only been a little over an hour since she and her family arrived at Midsummers, but it was an hour spent unable to get to Rafe, and the thought has her blowing a slow breath out of her nose.
Relax. You’re becoming desperate. When has she ever chased after a guy? It’s not in her nature, really, and she’s not sure why it’s becoming so prominent about Rafe Cameron, of all people. She tells herself that it’s guilt that’s driving her, feeling badly for assuming he was the one who had punched JJ because of how offended and hurt he had looked when it came up. Truthfully, Isla hadn’t expected Rafe to be hurt by it, not the way she had seen it reflected in his eyes, and she guesses maybe that’s why she’s so adamant on talking to him and properly apologizing to him.
And especially after that date. . . The way he set it up for them, cooking their meal—it was the sweetest thing any guy has ever done for her to show her their interest. Anyone she has been with before, whether it was a relationship or whatever, never put that kind of effort for her. And that. . . It meant a lot to her. Not to mention the fact that she really did have a good fucking time and, frankly, wished that he had kissed her. Or she should have kissed him.
They should have fucking kissed.
Isla blows out a breath, knowing she can’t change the past as she gives herself one last look over before walking to the door. She begins her walk down the hallway back to where the party is, hearing chatter and music in the distance, only to come to a sudden halt to avoid running into someone who turns the corner from a connecting hallway.
“Isla?” She freezes upon hearing her name from the familiar voice, taking in a deep, quiet breath when her gaze lifts and her eyes lock with her ex-boyfriend.
Of all the people to run into. . . 
She hadn’t once thought of running into Carlo at Midsummers, but that was also because she forgot that a few months ago, his mom got remarried and his step-dad is from the Kook side of Outer Banks, and while Carlo hadn’t changed schools and still went to the public school Isla and her friends go to instead of switching over to the Kook academy, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he and his family would come tonight. She had been lucky enough not to spot him—until now, as he stares at her in mild surprise, like he hadn’t expected to run into her, either.
“I was just heading back,” she says, moving to brush past him.
“Wait—” She is forced to stop when he suddenly appears in front of her. “We never got a chance to talk at Sarah’s party.”
Her patience is already wearing thin. “That’s because I made it clear I don’t want to talk to you,” she tells him, trying to keep her voice steady. Goddammit, why can’t he take the hint? What is there for him to say? To apologize for cheating on her? Beg for her forgiveness? She doesn’t care—not anymore, at least. Her annoyance builds, and Isla narrows her eyes and says, “Let’s get one thing clear, Carlo. I don’t owe you shit, alright? You fucked up. You threw our relationship out the window. So I’m well within my rights to tell you to go to hell and never have to speak to you again, because you don’t deserve it.”
Carlo’s jaw tightens, the vein in his temple beginning to protrude with every word Isla hits him with. But she simply keeps glaring at him, undeterred and sick of him trying to have a conversation with her that he thinks will change her opinion of him. “You never even gave me a chance to explain myself—”
“Explain yourself?” Isla repeats, eyebrows rising in disbelief at his audacity. “I’m sorry, I don’t need a step by step walk-through of how your dick ended up in some Jersey girl. It’s been a year since we broke up, Carlo. Move on. I sure as hell have.”
She sees the muscle in his jaw work, indignation firing up in his eyes. But right when Isla thinks he’s going to argue back, spew some bullshit, he surprises her by dipping his chin briefly in a nod. “Fine,” he says tightly. “You win. Won’t bother you again.”
Isla arches an eyebrow as she watches him turn and go, mildly surprised at how easily he gave in. But she doesn’t have a chance to dwell on it, because a new voice from behind her speaks up. “Are you always this brutal to guys who have a thing for you?”
Heart jumping, Isla spins around to see Rafe leaning against the wall on his side, watching her with an almost blank expression. Unable to help herself, Isla’s gaze dips, taking in the sight of him now that he’s this close after days of not seeing him, admiring the pristine press of his suit, his bangs framing his temples, and the family ring he wears on his pinky that gleams under the hallway lights.
When her gaze lifts to meet his, he arches an eyebrow, and instead of being embarrassed that he noticed her blatantly checking him out, she’s just relieved to see him—to have him talk to her. “Only the ones who deserve it,” she replies, her voice growing soft on its own. There’s about five feet of space between them, and she’s desperate to diminish it. “Rafe, I—can we talk?”
“About what?” he asks, but there’s a shift in his gaze that tells Isla he knows exactly what she wants to talk about.
She takes a couple of steps towards him, all too aware of the party going on behind her and that any one of her friends or her sister could walk by at any point and spot them. But she doesn’t want to add fuel to this already sensitive situation as she tells him, “I want to apologize—”
“Not here,” he cuts her off.
Isla blinks and before she knows it, his hand is holding hers and Isla’s gaze instantly drops down to the way his larger hand engulfs hers, his touch warm as their palms press together, and the air hitches in her throat as he tugs her forward. She has enough sense to use her free hand to lift the skirt of her dress so she doesn’t trip as Rafe pulls her around her corner, her heart thundering and too quickly for her to comprehend, they’re suddenly in a small, dark room.
Isla’s gaze darts, just barely making out the shelves next to her and along the wall opposite of the door as she turns around when the sound of the door clicking shut breaks the silence. She squints when a light is switched on, bathing her and Rafe in dim yellow lighting. Her throat tightens when she notices how small the room is—feeling smaller still with Rafe towering over her. Even in the shitty lighting of the supply closet, he’s unfairly gorgeous, the kind that makes her heart skip a beat in one second and pick up its pace in the next. And in the small space, the scent of his cologne is more prominent; fresh and woodsy and delicious.
When her gaze meets his, he arches an eyebrow and tells her, “Wouldn’t want your friends to spot us.”
He says it dryly, and it tightens something in her chest—even as she notes the way his gaze seems to trace the length of her, her skin prickling with awareness. His words have her blurting, “Rafe, I’m so—”
“I overreacted,” he cuts in, effectively surprising her as she gapes up at him. She most definitely hadn’t expected that. When he takes note of her surprised expression, one corner of his lips tilts up in a small, knowing smile. “I was thinking about it and I can’t exactly blame you for thinking I gave Maybank the black eye.”
“I was unfair,” she says with a frown, unsure how this conversation turned around. “I shouldn’t have just assumed that it was you.”
“I can’t exactly blame you for it,” he says, that half smile still visible as he rubs his bottom lip with a thumb. “Not with the history I have with your friends. I can’t expect you to forget all of that after just one date. It was unfair of me, too, to just shut you out these last couple of days.” His gaze meets hers and Isla’s throat locks at the genuine apology in his eyes, the kind that you can’t fake. “I’m sorry for not responding to your messages.”
Isla’s lips part, though no words come out as she stares at him in surprise. Part of her wonders if she’s imagining things, but she still can’t help the way her lips curve up into an incredulous, fond smile. Rafe’s gaze tracks the movement as he asks through a short chuckle, “What?”
She shakes her head, biting down on her smiling bottom lip. “I came here today fully intent on apologizing to you for not giving you the benefit of the doubt. And you just completely turn it around and apologize to me instead.”
His smile widens a bit, looking down at her with a lift of his chin. “Did I steal your thunder?”
Isla lets out a laugh. “A little bit,” she says with a nod. The air between them grows tense, in a way that makes her skin heat up as she realizes their proximity. But even so, her smile falters and she tells him, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Rafe’s smile fades a bit and for a second, Isla thinks he’s going to deny being hurt. But then again, Rafe is full of surprises, because he nods, gaze dropping to their feet as his lips twist to the side briefly. “I appreciate your apology.” His gaze lifts, blue eyes locking with her deep green, and the air seems to crackle. “You’re forgiven.”
Her shoulders sink in relief, not realizing how badly she wanted to hear those words until Rafe says them. The guy had given her one of the best dates she had ever been on, and she had turned around and insulted him, hurt his feelings, and Isla hated that she did that. If you asked her months ago if she would be up at night, tossing and turning over hurting Rafe Cameron’s feelings, she would have laughed in your face. But now, Isla feels an immense amount of relief knowing that he has forgiven her, and it’s a crazy development, but it’s not one she minds.
“Good,” she says quietly through a smile.
Her heart jumps when Rafe takes a step towards her, the already small space between them diminishing more as he does. “What about me?” he asks, voice low and enough to threaten goosebumps breaking across her skin. “Am I forgiven, too?”
She has to tilt her chin up to maintain eye contact as he gets closer, her pulse skittering in anticipation as the distance between them diminishes. The world beyond the door of the supply closet ceases to exist and all Isla can think of, can focus on, is the man before her, towering over her in his staggering height that she never before admired. She sees the way Rafe’s gaze dips from her eyes, lingering on her lips, and her stomach flips at the hungry look that darkens his eyes. She desperately wants him to act on that hunger.
“Yes,” she answers, her voice a whisper as if she’s divulging a secret only for him to know. Her own gaze flickers to his mouth, at lips that look so soft and make her wonder if they feel the same. Desire makes heat pool in her belly, her heart thudding faster and faster with every passing second. Through her dried throat, she speaks up, “If I tell you something, you promise not to hold it against me?”
Maybe he hears the vulnerability that slips into her tone, because Rafe’s gaze snaps up to meet her eyes once more. His chin dips into a single nod. “I promise.”
Her pulse quickens even more. For a split second, she hesitates in spilling her truth, knowing it’s going to leave her open and vulnerable in front of a person she never before wanted to be in such a state. But somewhere along the way, things changed so fast that Isla is left dizzy from it, but it’s a slow turning change she finds herself wanting to explore more of. It’s scary and new, but Isla wouldn’t be a Pogue if she shied away from trying scary and new things.
So conjuring up every ounce of her confidence, she looks him in the eye and confesses, “I missed you.”
Rafe’s eyes flare and she swears she hears him suck in a sharp breath, like her words were a punch in the gut. Her own cheeks warm as her statement hangs between them, feeling her heart pounding in her ears as she waits for him to say something. Anything. The tension in the small space is taut, ready to snap at any second, and she wonders if he can feel it so intently, too. Is she just imagining it? Can he, too, feel the sizzle of energy that exists between them?
“Isla.” His voice is rough, eyes darkening with a need that she feels deep in her bones. “Tell me I can kiss you.”
She nearly wants to cry in relief. “Please.”
It’s all the permission he needs, thankfully, and their collision is earth shattering.
Rafe’s arm winds around her waist and he tugs her close, erasing any remaining space between them as he leans down and captures her lips in a searing, breath-stealing kiss. Isla can’t stop the instant, gratifying moan that sounds from her throat at the first contact of his lips against hers, her hands coming up to grip the lapels of his suit jacket as she practically melts into him and the head spinning kiss.
Their fronts are pressed together and she swears she can feel every hard line of his torso against her as Rafe’s other hand grips her jaw, thumb on one side and his fingers on the other as he tilts her head just the way he likes it. Isla’s knees threaten to give out when his tongue teases her lips and she parts them for him immediately, wetness pooling in her underwear when he groans as his tongue languidly, teasingly slides along hers, tasting her as if he’s savoring every moment. Liquid heat pours through her blood as Rafe takes a few steps forward until Isla is being pressed against a shelf, the contents of it rattling yet neither of them paying any attention as he continues to rob her of her breath with his kiss.
One of her hands slides up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, and the pace of the kiss doesn’t slow for a second as Rafe’s arm moves from around her waist—only for his hand to grip her thigh from the parting of the slit of her dress, his skin warm against her already heated one, and she gasps against him as he lifts her leg to hook it around his hip. It brings them even closer, if possible, and Isla whimpers when she feels his hardness press against her panty covered core, the fiery need for him intensifying even more.
Yes, yes, yes. This is better than she could have ever imagined, going beyond her wildest fantasies. Every movement of his lips against hers sparks electricity in her veins, bringing her closer and closer to the point of cataclysmic explosion. She has kissed plenty of people before but, God, never like this. This, she can feel deep in her soul, bringing every cell in her body to life. She thinks she can easily get addicted to this—to Rafe’s kisses. How can someone be so damn good at kissing?
Isla doesn’t want to stop, she never wants this to stop, but air becomes an annoying necessity. Their kiss slows down, but it seems that Rafe doesn’t want to end it, either, dragging it out as long as he can, tasting her lips with sweet, soft kisses that make her heart ache in the best way. They don’t pull apart, foreheads pressing together as they catch their breaths, the supply closet filled with the sounds of their labored breathing as they share the air between them.
Isla’s eyes slowly open, heavy with dizzying lust, eyelashes fluttering as she finally opens them—only to see that Rafe is already watching her with a hooded gaze of his own. Her heart leaps, noting his kiss swollen lips, which have pinkened also because of her lipstick. The sight of her lipstick smeared on his mouth intensifies the heat pooled low in her belly, watching him with a hunger no doubt he can see.
Fuck. He kissed her in a way that ruined anyone else for her. There’s no going back from this.
“That was. . .” She trails off, still trying to catch her breath, their noses brushing together.
His mouth curves up. “Better than I could’ve imagined,” he finishes, making her already flushed cheeks blush more as she lifts her gaze to meet his, a shy yet thrilled smile dancing on her own lips. Especially when she feels his fingers brushing along her thigh, her leg still wrapped around him, and the blush deepens as she slowly puts her foot back onto the ground.
A breathless laugh escapes her as says, “You’ve got lipstick on your face.”
Rafe grins. An honest, panty-dropping smile that makes her want to kiss him again. His hand on her jaw shifts and she feels his thumb swipe along her bottom lip. “So do you, baby.”
Oh, God. The term of endearment does more to her than she cares to admit, breath stilling in her lungs as her lips tingle not only from his kiss, but the gentle caress of his thumb. His voice is low, a dizzying rasp, and if he ever finds out the kind of effect he has on her, then Isla is in trouble.
Dropping her gaze, she opens her purse and pulls out a small tissue packet. When she takes out a tissue and holds it up to him, Rafe glances at it before meeting her gaze, smirking as he says, “Your mess. Only right for you to clean it up.”
She finds herself grinning at the teasing glint in his eyes, biting her bottom lip as she moves her hand further up and, gently, wipes at Rafe’s lips. His gaze is heavy on her as she does so, heart thudding wildly as she gets rid of her lipstick smeared on his smiling mouth. “Done,” she says once she’s finished, crushing the tissue in a ball in her hand.
“Thank you,” he hums before taking the tissue pack from her hand. “My turn.”
Her pulse stutters once more when he places a knuckle under chin to lift her face up, gazes locking as he, oh so gently, wipes at the skin right around her lips, as if he’s being careful not to displace the rest of her makeup. It’s the most tender anyone has ever been with her, even if it’s something as mundane as him fixing her smeared lipstick, and Isla is a hundred percent sure she falls for him a little bit more, right at this moment. Who knew Rafe Cameron could be so soft, so gentle? After kissing her senseless, nonetheless.
“What do you say to a second date?” he asks, head tilting slightly as he dabs at the corner of her mouth.
Isla finds herself smiling, stomach fluttering. “I’ll say yes if you promise to kiss me again.”
Rafe grins, lowering his hand. Her body craves to be wrapped up in him again as he lifts his chin and says, “That’s a promise I’ll always keep.”
He proves himself when he presses a slow kiss to her lips once more, and Isla melts into him once more, wishing that they could stay in here, just the two of them, instead of returning to the Midsummers party. Her heart flutters wildly, happily, as she returns the kiss before they break apart slowly. “Just let me know when,” she tells him.
“Hmm?” Rafe hums, his gaze on her lips, like he wants to kiss her again. She’d totally let him.
Isla laughs. “For the date.”
His eyes flicker up to meet hers. “Yes, ma’am.” He glances over his shoulder. “Let me make sure the coast is clear.”
“One sec,” she says, taking out her phone and lipstick. Using the camera, she checks her reflection for a moment and grins at Rafe. “Nice clean up job,” she says, making him chuckle as he watches her quickly reapply her lipstick. He really did wipe away any remnants from her skin, and with the lipstick newly applied, no one would ever know. “Okay, I’m ready.”
She watches as Rafe steps to the door, switching off the light and plunging them into darkness, only for some light to slip through the crack that appears when Rafe opens the door just an inch or so. He peeks out, his hand gesturing her forward, and she steps up. “Okay, you’re good to go.”
He opens the door wider and Isla’s heart thuds as she steps out into the empty, bright hallway. She can hear the music and the party continue on outside, glancing down at the last second to make sure her dress is straightened, which it is. Right when she’s about to make her way down the hallway, not wanting to linger in case someone comes by, Rafe’s voice stops her.
“Isla.” She glances at him where he remains inside, standing in the space between the door and the door frame. He grins that panty-dropping smile once more, his gaze dipping to take in the length of her and igniting a fire in her skin as it trails back up to meet her eyes. “You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks flush, glancing away momentarily to give herself a second to get her wits about her, before musing, “You’re only saying that ’cause you just made out with me.”
He chuckles. “Doesn’t make it any less true.” He winks and somehow makes even that seem hot, when Isla would otherwise find it cringey if it was anyone else. Rafe nods in the direction of the party. “Get back out there.”
Isla’s not quite ready to leave him, but she knows she has to because her friends and sister will start looking for her if she’s gone for too long. When she rejoins Kie and Sarah, her sister asks, “Where have you been?”
“Bathroom,” Isla answers. “Why, did I miss something?”
“No,” Sarah hums, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. 
“Other than watching people ask Mom and Dad about their anniversary party. I think Mom’s gonna break out in hives,” Kie adds in. Their parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary is coming up quick, and they’re planning a party which Kie and Isla will be helping out with, and while their mom loves to throw a good party, the whole planning part stresses her out. “But we saw Carlo and were worried if you ran into him.”
Isla scoffs, trying to ignore the way her lips are still tingling from Rafe’s kisses. “I did,” she says, making both of their gazes whip to her. Isla rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. I told him to fuck off, and that was the end of that.”
Sarah shakes her head, expression scrunching up in annoyance. “If men are gonna have one thing, it’s the fucking audacity.”
Kie nods as Isla chuckles. “Tell me about it,” she says, just as her skin prickles with awareness. Her gaze wanders until it lands on Rafe, back on the porch with his friends, and Isla bites the inside of her cheek as his gaze seems to find hers in that moment, too. They lock eyes on opposite sides of the party, and her belly flips as that dizzying kiss replays in her mind on a loop.
She has to look away before anyone notices, tuning back into the conversation with Kie and Sarah while trying not to think of Rafe. But it doesn’t help that he watches her from wherever he is throughout the party, a secret just between them in a crowd full of people, but theirs to keep. For now, at least.
161 notes · View notes